


In Vino Veritas

by i_am_a_hog



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drunk!Crowley, First Kiss, M/M, Phone Conversations, written for a tumblr prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 12:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19356952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_a_hog/pseuds/i_am_a_hog
Summary: Drunken revelations.





	In Vino Veritas

**Author's Note:**

> Almost exclusively written while listening to Take Me To Church.

“I just wanted to let you know, that I think you’re beautiful.”

Crowley was clearly drunk and Aziraphale had no way of finding out where he was. Except for a miracle maybe. He knew, that Crowley would be okay eventually, but the fact that he was calling from a phone box alone, was concerning.

“Are you quite alright?” he asked, carefully.

“I’m fi – fine! Angel. ‘m fine.”

There was a muffled rustling noise at the other end of the line and Aziraphale vaguely wondered, if Crowley had sat down.

“You’re just. Pretty! You’re so, _so_ pretty.”

Aziraphale blushed.

“Thank you, darling.”

“’n you say – you call me _darling_ and dear and uh, and dear boy and…” he drifted off.

Aziraphale waited a moment, but the demon didn’t hang up, so Aziraphale sat down on his chair and leaned back.

“Don’t you like that?”

“Wha’?”

“The names… pet names,” Aziraphale said. It had never quite occurred to him, that they were, in fact, pet names.

“Yeah. Mhh, I do.” Then, after a moment, “Shouldn’t let anybody know.”

“Oh.” There was tug of something in his chest. Emotions, that wanted to escape, but Aziraphale kept them locked in carefully.

He could hear Crowley take another swig of whatever he was drinking.

“You think, maybe you should stop?” he asked.

“Wha’?” Crowley said again.

“Drinking. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“’s not that easy, angel,” Crowley slurred. “It’s good. Drunk, but wi-  when you’re too. You’re softer when I’m drunk.”

The angel shook his head, but didn’t reply.

“Y’know. Not _softer_ softer. You’re not… squishy. I’m- I… I- yeah, you’re squishy but you’re always. _Squishy_ , not just when _I’m_ drunk.” He paused and Aziraphale was almost sure, the demon had completely lost his point until he cleared his throat and continued. “Just, you’re nice.”

“I’m always nice,” Aziraphale protested. A snort came from the other end of the line, followed by a coughing fit. He knew, he shouldn’t have indulged Crowley in this argument.

“D’you _think_ I need _your_ help?” Crowley asked, when he finally stopped coughing.

“What makes you ask that?”

“’s just. You’re here. Haven’t hung up yet.”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said. “But I wish you’d let me. Help, that is.”

“Nothing you can do, angel.” Crowley sounded disturbingly sober in that moment.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said. He wanted so badly to be there for Crowley, to hold him and keep him safe until –

Another swig.

\- until he really sobered up.

“God!,” Crowley exclaimed, followed by angry yelling. “Shit! Oh, fuck! That _hurts_. Why does that even hurt? ‘s not like. Like I disrs- dis-sss,” he hissed.

“Disrespected?” Aziraphale asked, helpfully.

“Yeah, disr’spected her or… or anything. I just… Why’s it hurt?”

And another swig.

“Az’ra- Aziraphale.”

“Yes?”

“I wanna kiss you.”

In the silence that followed, Aziraphale could hear his own, heavily thumping heartbeat; he was surprised, that he hadn’t made any noises, because it was just the alcohol speaking. He shouldn’t let himself _hope_.

This wasn’t how their drunk conversations usually went.

“Well, this is new,” he mumbled eventually, and half-hoped, Crowley wouldn’t hear him at all.

“No, ‘s not.”

Crowley had another drink, before he continued.

“Been too godda- Eugh! - too damn long. So long. Almost the beginning.” He briefly paused as if to give Aziraphale time to catch up. “Yeah, mayb- I thi- yep. No, I wasn’t _in love_ then. Still wanted to kiss you, though.”

Aziraphale undid his bow tie and opened the top button of his shirt. Just to breathe, he told himself.

“Wanna mess up that hair… mhh, ‘n pull you close. ‘n I wanna taste you, ‘n you’d love it.”

Aziraphale‘s chest was aching with unspoken emotions. Such feelings, he had always kept buried with a certainty, that they were unwanted. To hear Crowley say these words, was opening floodgates, Aziraphale wasn’t even aware he had.

“Shit,” Crowley cursed. “’m sorry. I messed up.”

The line went dead.

Aziraphale stood up momentarily, tried to call back, before he realised, that even if the call mysteriously – miraculously – went through to that specific phone booth, Crowley wouldn’t pick up. He grabbed his coat and miracled himself to the source of his feelings.

Crowley was indeed sitting in a telephone box, legs pulled close at an awkward angle, head buried between his knees.

Aziraphale opened the door slowly, noticing the almost empty bottle next to him and the lost stare.

“Oh, angel,” Crowley said. “If only you were really here.”

Aziraphale knelt down next to the demon and held out a hand.

“I’m here,” he said, breathlessly. “Come home with me?”

Crowley only stared at him, eyes wide, as if his wildest dream was coming true.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, and again, Aziraphale blushed. “’s not here. ‘ziraphale wouldn’t. He wouldn’t have his shirt open.”

The angel’s hand began to tremble with unshed emotion, as he finally reached out to Crowley.

“May I?” he asked weakly.

“’nythin’,” Crowley slurred, wide, glassy eyes looking up at Aziraphale; he put a finger to his chin, tilting Crowley’s face.

“Oh,” the demon breathed out. In a surge of surprising control over his body, he leaned forward abruptly, pressing their lips together. Aziraphale gasped and instinctively brought a hand up to the back of Crowley’s head. He tasted like too-cheap alcohol, tasted stale; it wasn’t good, but Crowley’s lips were soft, insistent and Aziraphale didn’t find it in him to deny him anything.

Eventually, Crowley sacked back against the wall of the booth, eyes closed.

“Come home with me?” Aziraphale asked again, voice as shaky as his knees.

“Yeah.”

As he helped Crowley get up, two more empty bottles were revealed in the corner of the small space.

Aziraphale had not expected to end up watching a drunk demon rest in his bed, but exactly that was, what he did the rest of the night, after unsuccessfully trying to concentrate on a book.

* * *

 

“Fuck,” it came from under the covers, hours later.

“Crowley?”

The demon in question sat up, head between his hands, before he waved a hand, then shook his head.

“That’s better.”

“You shouldn’t be allowed to miracle away a hangover after last night,” Aziraphale grumbled, but there was a smile in his voice.

“Oh angel,” Crowley said again, voice soft an Aziraphale wondered vaguely if he remembered.

“Whatever I said or did… I didn’t mean it.”

The words cut through the thin sheen of hope surrounding the illusion Aziraphale had held.

“You didn’t?” he asked, uncaring if his emotions showed just a bit too clearly, because he was tired of waiting, and pining, and hoping.

“Wait.” Crowley turned around abruptly, fingers digging into the side of the mattress, as he sat on the side of the bed. “What _did_ I say?”

Aziraphale shook his head. If he uttered those words, if he told Crowley, it would make everything real, even the pain would be real. More real, than ever before.

“What did I say, angel?” Crowley asked again. Then, “Did I _do_ anything?”

Aziraphale clenched his hand into a fist, well out of Crowley’s view.

“Show me?” Crowley requested and Aziraphale’s ability to deny Crowley anything had died the previous night alongside the barriers around his heart. He stumbled out of his chair, over to where Crowley was sitting and before he could change his mind, he leaned down and once again pressed their lips together.

Crowley reacted immediately, mirroring Aziraphale just hours earlier; with a surprised intake of breath, he grasped at the back of his head, fingers driving into the soft hair.

It was better now, and when Crowley’s tongue licked at Aziraphale’s lips in a desperate inquiry, the angel’s knees gave in, dropping him against the cold floor, as he braced himself against Crowley and opened his lips.

“Oh, God,” he breathed out when they parted. Crowley was still holding on to him, but Aziraphale welcomed it.

“Really?” asked Crowley. “I did _that_?”

Aziraphale giggled. He was not usually in the habit of giggling, but all the anxiety and insecurity leaving his mind and soul so quickly left a space that needed to be filled. With giggling for example.

“You called me, drunk, rambling a lot, and then you told me that you wanted to kiss me and hung up.”

“And then you came to my rescue. Like a… guardian angel.”

Crowley grinned and Aziraphale had to restrain himself not to roll his eyes.

“And you said…”

“What?”

“You said you weren’t in love with me, then.”

“When?”

“In the beginning.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. I wasn’t.”

There was a hesitant moment, where neither of them dared to speak.

“And n-“ – “We’ve come a long way since.”

They spoke at the same time.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said. “So you…?”

“Yeah.”

The angel raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t make me say it, angel,” Crowley scrunched up his face, pulled away from Aziraphale, but the angel knew, he would give in if necessary. He saw it clearly in Crowley’s eyes.

“Okay.”

The demon leaned in and pulled Aziraphale close, pressing his face into his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“It’s been so long,” he said. His voice was breaking and Aziraphale knew, he had to hold on to Crowley. It had been so long.

**Author's Note:**

> Aye! Thanks for reading!
> 
> [Here's my Good Omens tumblr](https://a-zira-fell.tumblr.com/) and with the help of many suggestions, I have started to assemble [This Ineffable Husbands Playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/user/lokianawinchester/playlist/5YidXrF7CyrbbeAyioULAL?si=j83kvMwOSiWvyp8OGQ0HiA)
> 
> I'm eternally grateful for all kudos and comments. <3


End file.
